I'm really fucking annoyed.
If one more person asks me if and when I'm going to have children, or tries to convince me that I should, or offers their unsolicited advice,
I'm gonna, I'm gonna ...
I'm going to politely tell them to mind their own business.
Notice I said politely, because while people have no problem being impolite, or insensitive, or invasive, or just straight-up rude, I, as the recipient, must keep my cool and either explain myself or gracefully defend myself. They're lucky I'm a classy broad. I know people don't mean any harm, but this really shouldn't be an issue at all, because what I choose to do or not do with my womb should be of no concern to anyone but my husband.
While he would like to have kids, he loves and respects me enough to understand and accept my decision: that I don't want to be a mother, that I don't want to have children, that I don't have the need to breed.
I'm going to say that one more time:
I don't have the need to breed.
I wouldn't be surprised by the anti-woman rants and actions of knuckle-dragging male conservatives who may judge my decision not to have kids. I am surprised, however, by people — often female people — who should know better than to question or comment on a woman's choice, and my choice is not to procreate.
Those people say the darndest things.
"But you'll have beautiful children!"
This one is the most ridiculous of all the reasons given to me, and it is also my personal favorite. So I should have kids just because they would possibly be beautiful (and, let's not forget, smart and athletic)?
I should commit to one of the toughest jobs in the world, all for the sake of populating the planet with a super-human specimen of good breeding? No, thanks. I'm good.
But I guess I can't blame them, right? I mean, they look at me and my tall, handsome stuntman husband and can't wrap their brains around why we would purposely waste such prime eggs and sperm, the selfish people we are. I guess I'm the selfish one, because I refuse to be the vessel through which mankind is delivered from its mediocrity.
What year is this again?
"But you'll be such a good mother!"
It took a lot of therapy and a deathbed reconciliation with my own mother to realize that she wasn't the monster I made her out to be. She was just a human being who made shitty choices that deeply affected me. I wouldn't be that kind of mother. My grandmother, on the other hand, was all sacrifice, putting the needs of her kids and then me ahead of her own, going without to make sure everyone had what they needed. She died of a broken heart. I wouldn't be that kind of mother either. So on the scale of martyr to monster, I'd probably fall somewhere in the human range. I'd be a "good enough" mother. Still not a good enough reason for me to actually be someone's mother. I'd be a good competitive eater, too, doesn't mean I should.
"It's so much fun!"
Fucking liars. Next.
"But you were such a good mom on Parenthood!"
I'm not a mother, but I've played one on screens big and small, five times to be exact. I popped my cherry on Get Rich or Die Tryin, had three kids on Parenthood, and am currently preggers on Good Girls Revolt. So, yeah, I'm an expert. The best thing about being a "parent" is I get to play mom for the day and, when the day is done, give the kid back and go home. How is that not awesome? I love kids though! OTHER people's kids.
Playing mom didn't make me want to be a mom. I don't see how pretending to be someone would make you want to actually be that person or qualify you to be that person. I was a Navy gal in Antwone Fisher, but that didn't make me want to enlist. And come on, people, this is Hollywood. There are plenty of "parents" who are shitty parents in real life. You think I was good at pretend mom? Thank you. That means I was good at my job. I'll just take this one as a compliment.
"Just give him a baby already!"